School. Wow.

Schule (school). I’m not happy. Today was diese official first day of school. Yesterday was just going in and seeing all of your classes, und getting eine tase of was the school year will be like. I know das Ich promised I’d post Simon & Sonya every Friday, and that I’ve been slacking. Aber miene Famile und Ich have been sehr busy, and I haven’t had much of a chance to think about it. Also, today I had a poetry class in writing today, and I thought I’d share es. The assignment was to write 3 sentences, using one simile or metaphor, to discribe your dream school… Ich went a kliene bit over the top.

My Dream School…

       My dream school is like a dream tree; The students would be the leaves. With every additional leaf, the tree gets healthier, and more likely to prosper. Then, when fall comes, the leaves are able to show their true colors. The teachers are the sun, the water, and the soil. Their sole purpose is to create a lucious enviornment for the tree and the leaves to grow. Soon, with the combined effort of the sun, water, and soil, the tree will live on, and be able to make more room for leaves by the hundreds to live and develope. —– Now, the dream is over, and I have to get to school. I leave the house feeling sad, that all I have left is just a powerful metaphor…?

You Decide. 

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Welcome to the campground where no one looks up…

I STEP OUT OF THE TENT,

A COOL MORNING BREEZE CHILS ME TO THE BONE.

I’M BLESSED TO OWN A SWEATSHIRT . . .

—–

—–

THE WATER CALLS TO MY PAINT BRUSH AND CANVAS

BUT IT’S EARLY, I CAN PAINT LATER.

NO ONE ELSE IS UP YET . . .

—–

—–

I SIT BY THE FIRE

MMMUUUUUCCCHHHH WARMER

TEA WOULD BE NICE . . .

—–

—–

I WALK DOWN THE PATH, SURROUNDED BY BLUEBERRIES

THE HIGHER THE BUSH, THE MORE THE BLUEBERRIES

BECAUSE NO ONE EVER LOOKS UP . . .

Simon & Sonya

OK, I may aswell come clean about where I got the inspiration for my pen name “Simon Workmann” if I am to tell this story. I’ve alwayse had relatively good ideas for books. One of my favorites is a story called Simon and Sonya. I won’t give away the plot, because you’ll see the first part of the story right now. But anyway, I always thought of Simon as the most similar character of mine to me. His last name is Workmann, so there. One day I was EXTREMELY board, so I wrote the first part of the story in the context of a book. I’ll share it with you, but first, I’d like to include the link to a great story that I read. It was writen by Brenda at Friendly Fary Tales, and the story is called The Shepherdess and the Prince. Here’s the link:

http://friendlyfairytales.com/2013/08/08/the-shepherdess-and-the-prince/

Her stories are great, and if you like writing and poetry, you should visit this blog.

As for my stories, I hope you’ll like this one as much as I like her’s:

S I M O N   a n d   S O N Y A

by :

S I M O N   W O R K M A N N

It was Pouring rain at the airport, and the wind was going a million miles per hour. Simon could barely hold onto his umbrella. Him and his mother were on their way to his aunt’s wedding in Lyndonville Vermont. She was engaged to a man who, surfice it to say, had a two gold tooth, had a bathroom bigger than the master bedroom at Simons house, and wore cashmere when he went camping. He was nice though, and Simon liked him. That is why he let his mother drag him out of bed at 4:57 am.

“Simon!” yelled his Mother, who was barely audible over the rain and the wind, not to mention the three oddly consecutive thunder claps that went off just then.

“What is it?!” yelled Simon.

“I have our boarding pass!” She replied. Then, withou so much as a “Follow me!” or what have you, she dashed inside.

—————- 

It was beginning to let up at Sonya’s window. It had been pouring beyond belief earlier that day. She’d even heard that some flight’s had been canceled, and some roads had been flooded. She was beginning to see accross to her neighbors yard. Some rich guy in a mansion that was completely out of place in this trash can of a neighborhood. As it turn’s out, they were planning a wedding for tomorrow. She thought about her parents backyard wedding. She was very little, and all she remembered was that it was ther “very rainy wedding”. It was probably similar to the one next door. But their wedding would probably work out better than her parrents. She slumped back in her chair. Without mom in the house, it was rather “lonely”. She was the lonely one, Dad didn’t seem to be as concerned as he probably was supposed to be. At this thought she decided to tear up the letter that she was holding. The letter to Mom.

Tune in next week for my newly established “Simon and Sonya Friday”, to hear some more of the story! =)

I hope you enjoyed it!

 

Catterpillar Poem

I was working rather hard to write a caterpillar poem that Ich actually liked. Then I remembered the poem I had written earlier this year for literature class. It actually was nicht sehr bad. So I put it in an interesting format, using Paint, and this it how it turned out:

Ich like es, aber Ich regret my choice in saying “One year later”, when actually it’s about 6 months. I really am proud of it though, including the original draft.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Whenever I share poetry, it’ll probably be similar to this.